


Spinning Wheels and Feet That Run (but They Come Back Home)

by sambethe



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, captain beauty brotp, road trip fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 09:17:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6848593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sambethe/pseuds/sambethe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post break-up with both Gold and Milah, Killian and Belle take off on a road trip across the US to clear their heads and dust off their hearts. [Captain Beauty BroTP against a backdrop of developing Captain Swan.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spinning Wheels and Feet That Run (but They Come Back Home)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lenfaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenfaz/gifts).



> For Lena, on the occasion of her birth. Enjoy your bazillion cakes and torts (and not to mention the medialunas). I’ve been enjoying getting to know you these last few months, so consider this the equivalent of overdue hugs and glitter confetti.
> 
> There are mentions of past Millian along with allusions to a few one night stands during the course of the story for both Killian & Belle. Proceed accordingly.

The car was packed. His duffel in the back, camera bags on the floor of the passenger seat, and a paper bag packed with more candy than reasonable on the console between the seats. That last was a gift from Emma, shoved into his hands when she arrived at his front door that morning, bearing it along with three oversized coffees and bagels smeared in an obscene amount of cream cheese from the deli at the corner.

The same Emma who was now lurking on his front steps. 

“You all right there, Swan?” he called. 

She shrugged on her leather jacket and made her way down to him. Killian pulled her into a hug when she came within reach. 

“Got you one more thing,” she whispered into his neck.

She stepped back and slipped a Nano into his palm, curling his fingers around it before pulling her hand back. “I expect that back,” she said with a firm nod, her eyes still focused somewhere near his shoes.

He nodded, finger itching to light the screen, to see what she loaded for him. “I’m coming back, you know,” he said instead.

“I know,” she said, digging her toe against the curb.

“I just need –”

“I know,” she repeated. “But would it help if I offered to punch her?”

A laugh burst from his chest despite himself. “Not necessary, but thank you for the sentiment none the less.” He pulled her in for another hug. Breathing in the scent of her hair, he turned his head to find Liam standing in their open front door, styrofoam coffee cup pressed to his lips. He gave Killian a brief nod.

“Tell Belle I expect her to bring you back in one piece,” Emma whispered. 

“Aye,” he said and squeezed her hand as she stepped back. 

When he pulled away from the curb, he caught sight of her in the rearview mirror – Liam’s arm slung over her shoulder, her head resting against his arm. He turned the corner and reminded himself to text Liam later to thank him for keeping an eye on her.

*

Pulling up in front of Belle’s father’s place, he found her perched on the stoop, head tilted back and staring up at the sun. She wore pair of large sunglasses across her nose and a floppy hat on her head, and there were three bags piled at her feet.

Killian rolled down the window. “You know, I only just promised Emma we weren’t running away forever.”

“I wanted to be prepared,” she said with a laugh, hauling one bag over her shoulder and picked up the second. “Grab that last, won’t you?”

He sighed and flipped the hazard lights on. He opened the trunk before skipping over to her last bag, picking it up with an exaggerated groan. 

“How many pairs of shoes, woman?”

Belle slid into the passenger seat and rolled down her window. “Why do you ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to?”

*

They’ve no particular destination in mind. Killian was feeling a healthy dose of ‘anywhere but here’ and Belle’s talked for years of just driving, seeing what’s out there. As long as he had known her, her bedroom wall had had a map of the US pinned to it, tiny floss strings tacked up, mapping out twisted pathways of trips she’d read about. 

But for all her dreaming, she’d never been farther than a 60 mile radius from Boston.

There’d been plans and promises, Killian couldn’t count the number of times he had found her nose deep in a travel guide – Barcelona, Sardinia, Buenos Aires, Rajasthan, Vancouver – the destination didn’t matter. Each eventually crushed with a tepid excuse from the mouth of her fiancé. 

Today, though, he idled against the hood of his car, staring down through the lens of his Hasselblad, focusing on her back as she sat on the faded, wood rail fence bordering the back of the diner parking lot. The sky was a soft blue and her t-shirt billowed in the wind while she clasped her hand to the top of her head to keep her hat in place, some small farm in nowhere Connecticut sprawled out before her. 

He smiled as he took his shot, knowing she’ll love it.

*

Their first night away was spent in a cramped motel room in the northeast corner of Pennsylvania. A small town with a central square dominated by Queen Anne homes that caught Belle’s fancy. He was all too happy to while away his time on a park bench, his Nikon pressed to his face, watching the old men play chess as she wandered the square and peered in store fronts. 

They walked the river walk that night, passing a few surreptitious beers between themselves and making up stories for the people they passed. Despite his buzz and the trove of good photos he managed to take, he still had trouble settling down that night. He could hear Belle’s deep breathing from the bed next to his, but his mind was too full of images of the last motel room he’d been in for him to find any rest. 

All he could see was Milah spread out on scratchy white sheets, one leg twisted around the polyester comforter. His head pillowed on her thigh as he spread her open to him, watching his fingers disappear within her, pulling moans and sighs from her with each twist and thrust. He was hard despite himself as he remembered the smell of her, her taste, the feel of her rippling around his fingers as she came. He wanted her so badly. Still. And he hated himself for it. 

He must have been fidgeting because he heard Belle shift and looked over to find her propped up on one elbow, facing him from across the gap between their beds. 

“Killian?” she whispered.

“Aye?”

“Would you take me dancing in Nashville?”

He smiled up at the ceiling, shifting an arm up and underneath his pillow. 

“I think that might be arranged, love.”

*

It took three days for them to wind their way to Nashville, but Killian didn’t mind their pace. It seemed to suit their moods. His brain remained fogged and his skin itched, and Belle was still unnaturally quiet. 

But she tolerated his random stops on the side of the road. Letting him capture photos of whatever it was that grabbed at his attention. The last was a few miles back – a weather-worn barn with a faded hardware store sign painted on its side, its roof collapsed and metal drums rusted out and piled in front of it. He wasn’t breaking any new ground, but there was a certain comfort in being behind a camera again, seeing things through the narrow focus of his lens. And Belle didn’t snark or poke fun at the time he spent fiddling with f stop settings or switching out cameras and lens, using the extra time to sneak in a few pages of whatever she was reading as he wrestled the photographs into submission. 

In gratitude, he surprised her with a stop at horse farm outside of Lexington, signing them up for an afternoon-long trail ride. Her obvious glee at getting to help tack up the horses alone made the cost of it worth it, as was the wide smile he captured as she went through the motions with their guide.

He also wasn’t going to complain about the bottles of bourbon she picked up from a distillery they found down the road from the farm on their way to a hotel that night. 

*

They were just outside the city when Belle booked them three nights in an Airbnb rental. It was the first solid plan they’ve had since they left Boston. 

The apartment was small but bright and they each got their own room, but it was the shower with ridiculously good water pressure that made Killian happiest. He stood under the spray for at least twenty minutes, letting the water hit against his shoulders and run down his back. When he ran a hand down his stomach and curved it around himself, he tried to be resolute in not conjuring up images of Milah, her hands and her mouth in place of his hand. He failed miserably. 

When he finally emerged, hair still wet and towel tucked at his waist, Belle rolled her eyes but handed him a glass of bourbon. He grinned and sniffed at the glass, enjoying the burn at the edges of his nostrils before taking a sip. 

By the time they were dressed and heading out the door, they were both over the tipsy line and well on their way to drunk. The first bar they stopped in had a live band playing and a smattering of couples doing their best to dance in the tight space. Killian picked a spot at the end of the bar, ordering them a set of beers. Before he’d finished half his bottle, a man approached and asked Belle to dance. Killian choked back a laugh at the blush that rose on her cheeks and prodded her to accept. 

He watched the two of them move across the floor as one song faded to the next and the next after that. At the band’s break, Belle stepped back to Killian, grabbing hold of his newly refreshed beer and taking a generous sip. Handing it back to him, she nodded her head back towards the guy she’d been dancing with.

“I’m going to go –”

“You sure?” he asked, trying to size him up from where they stood.

“Yeah, I’ll be ok. He’s at a hotel not far from here.” She smiled. “Do you have your cell on you?”

Killian fumbled in his pocket, feeling for the weight of it. He pulled it out and turned it on before nodding. “Aye.”

Belle hugged him and whispered, “I want this. I’ll call if I need you.”

He smiled as he let go. “Have fun.”

Watching her leave, he polished off his beer and decided to continue down the street to see what else was on offer. It was in the third bar that he saw her – all long, jet black hair streaked with bright blue and silver and wearing a torn Cramps t-shirt and jeans you’d have to peel off. She smirked when she caught Killian staring and glanced him up and down. 

He grinned and swiped his tongue across his lower lip, beckoning her to him with a crook of his finger.

“Do you find that shit-eating grin works for you?” she asked when she stood toe to toe with him. 

He shrugged and slipped his fingers through her front belt loops, tugging her to him and sliding his mouth over hers in an answer all its own. 

*

In all, their stop ended up as three nights of drinking and fucking strangers, followed by day drinking and wandering town together. By that last morning they were exhausted and ready to be back in Killian’s car and on the road. 

They’d talked about heading towards New Orleans, but the thought of all that rum left them both feeling queasy. Killian kept them heading south and west, aiming for either the forests of Arkansas or western Louisiana, leaving it to Belle’s whim to pick out their eventual destination. 

From the corner of his eye as they made a turn, he caught sight of her bare feet resting on his dashboard. He wanted to be annoyed, but she was cuffing her jeans to mid-calf as she bobbed and hummed along to the radio. She looked lighter than he had seen her in months, ponytail swinging and curved lips painted a bright shade of red. 

The track faded and the clear, bright beat of the Clash kicked in. Killian’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel and he couldn’t help but join in with her as soon as the lyrics started in.

*

“I’ve never done that before.”

They were spending the night in a cabin on the outskirts of the Ouachita National Forest. The night was humid and the air stagnant, so they’d decamped with some limited bedding and set up a makeshift bed in the yard out back. Killian was sprawled on his back, one arm tucked underneath his head with Belle laying perpendicular to him, her head resting on his stomach as they watched the stars creep into view. 

“What’s that?” he asked, fingering the ends of her hair that laid across his chest. 

She turned to face him, drawing her knees up to her chest, her head still resting on his stomach. “A one night stand.”

He smiled and tugged at the strand he’d curled around his index finger. They hadn’t really talked since they left Nashville, oscillating between silence and singing while they drove. And when they’d finally stopped the night prior, they’d both fallen into their beds still fully dressed. 

“Let alone three in a row, I imagine.”

He knew he deserved the smack to the chest she delivered.

When she turned back to face towards the sky again, she continued, “I never dated much. Before Robert. Then I met him and I thought he was the answer to everything. That I’d get to see the world, that he’d free me of my obligations. And instead…”

Killian moved his hand to scratch at her scalp, not sure what other comfort he could offer as she slipped into silence.

After a few minutes, she started again, her tone lighter. “Did you know I wasn’t aware it was possible to have an orgasm start before your last had even finished?”

“Belle!” he choked, taking his hand from her hair and covering his eyes. 

“I was sorely tempted to go back in search of a second round with that one.”  
“Oh, god! I don’t think I want to know this.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “I’ve seen you with women. Don’t act like I’ll somehow manage to sully your sensibilities.”

He bit back a laugh. “Stop it, Miss French, you’ll make me blush.”

She turned her head to burrow into his stomach, hoping to hide her giggling and he smiled, so happy to see her laugh.

*

It was in Texas that Killian finally ceded the driver’s seat to Belle. He leaned his seat back and stretched out, letting the flat, dry expanse of the landscape blur by. He closed his eyes, letting the sounds of the engine as Belle shifted gears wash over him, trying not to cringe when she shifted later than he would. _The engine will be fine_ , he chanted to himself. 

He shifted position, trying to drift off, when he felt the press of his phone in his back pocket. He’d been ignoring it, only turning it on those few nights when Belle left him, not wanting to leave her alone. He’d ignored the red bubbles telling him he had waiting messages, most of which were probably Liam wanting to throttle him for not checking in.

He hadn’t intended the radio silence, especially not for more than two weeks, but there was a certain peace found in letting it go. He fingered its edge, hovering over the power button for a few moments before giving in.

He was right. There were near daily emails and texts from Liam, usually more than one a day, asking where they were headed, requesting photos. He could tell Liam was trying to not smother him, and failing at it, but they hadn’t ever gone more than a day without talking before. Oddly, though, it wasn’t his messages that made Killian feel guilty for his silence, but rather the handful from Emma.

Hers weren’t more than a few sentences, and two were simply photographs. They were all sent in the first few days after he and Belle left town. 

He typed out a quick text to Liam, letting him know they were on their way to Austin and that he’d send some photos once they got to the hotel and had decent wifi. 

Liam’s reply was near instantaneous – a simple _Good_ and nothing more. 

Emma was more difficult. Things hadn’t been ok between them for a while. And he knew her insecurities. He knew she understood why he needed this, but his disappearance would still have cut her nonetheless, and would prey upon the already frayed edges of their friendship. 

He stopped and started his message to her, erasing and re-beginning it again and again. He felt Belle watching him from the corner of her eye as he did. Finally, he settled on the side of short and to the point. 

_Up for a phone call later?_

While her response took much longer than Liam’s, her affirmation when it came left him calmer than he had felt in days.

*

“Hey, stranger.”

Killian hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her voice until it was in his ear, reminding him of home. 

“Sorry,” he said lamely. “I hadn’t intended to go off the grid.”

He could hear the shrug that she would be giving to that, the carefully crafted nonchalance she’d try to convey. “Where are you?” she asked. 

He told her of their path so far, winding and meandering through their stories in much the same way as he and Belle had been driving. He hadn’t meant for it, but somehow two hours passed and they were still talking, Emma’s laugh currently filling his head, making him smile broadly. With Belle out at the bar across the street, the hotel room had grown dark around him, leaving him cocooned in the sheets of his bed surrounded by nothing but the whir of the air conditioner and the sound of Emma in his ear.

They both grew silent. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered finally.

“I know,” he whispered back, then paused. “I’m sorry.”

“I mean for more than just past couple of weeks.”

His heart ached at the crack in her voice as she spoke those words. Milah hadn’t much liked Emma and while he knew she tried, Emma wasn’t above taking the bait when offered. Killian had tried to broker peace by cordoning off aspects of his life from one another, and perhaps that should have tipped him off.

“I was an idiot.”

“You were in love,” she said with a sigh. “No one knows what that can do to someone better than me.”

Killian hummed and after a beat, said, “I’ve missed you too, Swan.”

*

His sunglasses were firmly covering his eyes along with Belle’s floppy hat and still everything was too bright. 

“Whiskey is the devil,” he mumbled, not even sure Belle was still sitting beside him.

“Told you to walk away from those last few shots,” she chirped. 

“I hate you.”

She nudged his arm with a bottle of water and he accepted with a grunt, propping himself on one arm to drink from it. They were still in Austin, camped out for the afternoon on a hill at Barton Springs. The pool lapped quietly below them as a smattering of a few small groups lounged at the edge. Belle laid on her stomach in a pair of cut off shorts and her bikini top, a couple maps spread in front of her, chewing on a pen as she stared at them. 

Killian settled back down and faded back to sleep as the shadows from the trees stretched over them. He woke a while later to the sound of Belle quietly chatting with another woman. 

“You’re getting good at that,” he said when the woman she was sitting with noticed him wake and made her leave.

“What’s that?” she asked, pulling her hair up into a bun and threading a pen through to hold it together. 

He smirked. “Chatting up strangers.”

Belle flushed, the color staining down her neck. “That wasn’t what that was.”

Killian removed his sunglasses and gave her a level stare. Her flush deepened and she shifted to tuck her legs up underneath her. 

“Ready to move on?” he asked, allowing her deflection with a mod towards her pile of maps.

She glanced over her shoulder and Killian caught an exchange of lopsided smiles as Belle found the woman looking back her. “Maybe one more night,” she said after a moment. “After that, want to see the Grand Canyon and then head north?”

Killian gave her an easy grin. “Whatever you like, love. You’re navigating this wayward adventure.”

*

They got distracted on route to Arizona, detouring south to the hot springs in the Gila National Forest. ¬¬-Once again, the fresh air, and warmth, and solitude a welcome detox after the alcohol-laden haze that was their time in Austin. 

Killian had his Hasselblad out again and Belle was playing a willing prop among the backdrop of brush and rocky outcrops that surrounded them. What he hadn’t noticed, however, was that at some point she had pilfered his Nikon from his bag. Distracted by his attempts to capture the play of the light on the cliff face above them, he missed the fact she had been taking photos of him mucking around. When his attention came back to the valley, he heard the distinct whir of the shutter and turned to find her with the camera pointed at him.

He raised an eyebrow at her, and let her snap a few more shots.

She smiled when she brought the camera down from her face. “Liam would never forgive me if the only photos he gets of you are from the drunken portions of this trip.”

Killian frowned. “You’ve been talking to Liam?”

Belle shook her head. “Not much, just a couple texts. He wasn’t checking up on you. Not really.”

He muttered and turned back to his camera to fire off a couple final shots. 

“Show me how to set the timer on this one,” she said once he packed the lenses for the Hasselblad. He grunted but obliged, attaching a small tripod and setting the camera on a small rock across from where Bella had been perched. He jogged back to her in time for the camera to take burst of photos of the two of them, broad smiles and red-faced from the sun, their hair a disheveled mess.

When done, Belle nudged his shoulder with her own. “I promise. There’s been no talk of you with Liam.”

He kissed her temple and pushed off the rock, grabbing her arms when he stood in order to get them both moving. The sun was beginning to creep downwards, and they had several miles of hiking back out of the valley before night fall. 

*

Just after they left the Canyon, Killian found a photo lab to process the film he had used. He paid for them to ship it all back to Boston and email him high-res scans. He probably should have cringed at the extra cost, but he was too anxious to see what had turned out.

They were in a ratty motel in South Dakota when he received notification that they were available. The wifi was questionable at best, but he set them to download as he and Belle hunkered down for a night of whatever was playing on HBO. She fell asleep not even an hour into the first movie, so he left the tv on for background noise and began sorting through the photos on his SD cards while he waited for the others to finish downloading.

Within an hour, he had a sizable folder set aside of ones for Belle. He had an idea forming on how to frame them up for her, a housewarming present of sorts for when she found a place after they returned to Boston. Or at least he was hoping to convince her to find a place on her own, away from her family. They’d been talking around the topic while driving, Belle seemingly resigned to moving back in with her father. 

When he popped the next card in, the images that came up took him by surprise. They were a little over two years old, from back when he finally got himself a studio. Emma had come over to help him get the walls painted a neutral color and he’d started snapping shots once they had finished and she started to hang a few of his backdrops. The last few photos were of the two of them, sprawled out on the dust and dirt covered floor, a streak of paint across her left cheek, and his smile ridiculously wide. Neither of them were looking into the camera he held above their heads, too busy laughing over something long forgotten as they faced one another.

He sent one of them to his phone and texted it to her. His phone buzzed immediately with an incoming call and he slipped out onto the balcony to answer.

“Hey,” he whispered as he slid the glass door shut behind him.

“Hey, stranger,” she replied. He would cringe, but there was no bite to her words this time. In fact, her voice sounded edged in happiness, something he only just realized he hadn’t heard in some time. “Where’d you dig up that photo?”

He sat on the rickety chair and rested his feet on the iron bars that bordered the balcony edge. “Found a card at the bottom of one of my camera bags.”

“I’d forgotten about that day. Was that the same one where you talked me into doing that whole photoshoot for you and Ruby, or was that a few weeks later?”

He immediately knew what she meant and scrolled through one of the albums he tucked into the recesses of his phone. He had a few of the photos from that day saved there. They were all close ups, meant to highlight a series of jewelry Ruby had crafted. He selected his favorite – her hair swept up, her neck and collar exposed, and a chunky, tiered collection of amber falling down her chest – and hit send before he could think better of it.

He heard the ding of the photo arriving on her end and smiled at the laugh she gave when she opened it.

“You have that saved to your phone?” she asked, her tone tinged with something he didn’t recognize and he wished she had FaceTimed with him instead. 

“I talked you into that, as you put it, a few weeks after I opened the studio,” he answered, avoiding her second question. “I still think you are mad not to pursue it, by the way. You’re a natural.”

She huffed into the phone. After a moment, she asked, “Where are you?”

“Somewhere in South Dakota, I’m told.” He glanced across the parking lot to the flat, open expanse of land beyond it. “I don’t think I realized just how spread out and flat everything was out here.”

He heard her shifting, wrapping herself into the blankets of her bed for the night. Once she was settled, she asked, “You coming back soon?”

“Aye. We’re heading back eastward, but Belle’s setting the pace.”

“How’s she doing?”

He sighed. “She’s a work in progress, but I think she’ll sort it out.”

“What about you?”

He tilted his head back, staring at the cracks running in the concrete above his head. He took a deep breath, trying to land on the right words. “Sore,” he settled on. “If that makes sense.”

Emma hummed, a soft barely there thing curling in his ear. 

“But being behind a camera is helping,” he continued. 

“I’m glad.”

*

Belle drove them through South Dakota and on to Iowa. He neglected the passing scenery as she did, focused instead on his laptop screen as he scrolled back through the photos he found the night before. He paused on the same photo he sent her and traced a finger along the edge of Emma’s smile on his screen. He was struck by look he’d captured between them. They paid the camera no mind, too intent on one another and whatever joke it was that one of them told. Emma’s hand was lying on his chest, fingers twined in the chain around his neck. She looked for all the world like she was about to kiss him and he wondered how it was that he hadn’t noticed at the time. 

“Did you only just realize?”

He looked up to find Belle had pulled off into a strip mall parking lot and cut the engine. “Pardon?”

She chewed on her bottom lip before continuing, “I always assumed you were being purposely obtuse. It hadn’t occurred to me that you didn’t know you were in love with her.”

He felt dizzy and wondered idly if they still had a bottle of bourbon in the car. Finally catching himself, he started, “You’re not…”

Belle smiled at him as she pulled the keys out of the ignition. “I’ll give you a minute.” Then with a nod to the store in front of them, she said, “I’m going to grab myself a coffee. Want anything?”

Killian nodded and glanced back down at his laptop screen.

When Belle returned, she slid a coffee cup into his hand and he downed a mouthful, nearly choking when the fact she had laced it with whiskey caught up to him. After he recovered, he arched an eyebrow at her.

“Just yours, don’t worry. Thought you could use it.” She turned the engine over but didn’t move to shift in reverse. “You know that it is mutual right? Even if the two of you have refused to acknowledge it.”

Killian closed the laptop and tossed it in the back seat. He took a gulp of the coffee, ignoring the scalding heat as he swallowed. 

*

Belle took pity on him, letting all talk of Emma fall by the wayside for the remainder of the night’s drive. She dropped him at a nondescript hotel somewhere between Sioux City and Des Moines, returning a short while later with a six pack of beer and a pizza. They made a picnic out of it, sitting cross-legged on the bed together with the open box between them. 

“Liam offered up the apartment above the bar,” she said between sips of her beer. 

Killian nodded. “I thought he might.”

She sighed and picked at a peeling edge of the bottle’s label. “I’d feel like I was taking advantage of his hospitality.”

Killian tossed one of his used napkins at her head. “It isn’t hospitality, love. You’d be paying rent and you know he he’d rather have you in that flat than just about anyone else.”

She crinkled her nose as she batted the napkin away. “What if I promise to consider it?”

Killian narrowed his eyes at her but gave a curt nod. “I’d say that’s an improvement over ignoring the topic all together.”

*

In the morning, Killian woke to find Belle already awake and their bags packed and piled next to the door. He grumbled and gave a glare, but padded off to the bathroom to shower and get moving before she forcibly shoved him from the bed and out the door. 

By the time they pulled onto the road, he only managed to drink a few sips of the coffee she crammed in his hands as they got in the car. So he blamed the lack of caffeine for not realizing she was directing him onto the interstate until he found himself merging with the traffic. They hadn’t discussed it as such, but there had been a sort of mutual agreement to opt for county and state roads as they forged their route. With no particular agenda and no time constraints, the monotony of larger highways had been avoided. 

He didn’t comment, but did turn to raise an eyebrow at her in question. She shrugged and dug around the glove box, pulling out the Nano Emma had given him as well as the adapter for the radio. He didn’t press further as the music started with the opening strums and clangs of Wilco’s _Yankee Hotel Foxtrot_. He let a smile curve at the edge of his mouth as the music picked up and he fell into the memory of Emma playing the album for him – the two of them in Liam’s bar well past closing time, the stereo turned up and them lying across freshly wiped down tables, drumming along. 

It was dusk by the time they crossed into Ohio, covering more ground that day than had been their pattern. Belle seemed hell-bent on the increased pace and Killian wasn’t going to stop her. It had been the two of them in his car for over a month and while he loved it and their quiet solitude together, the pull of his own bed was near overwhelming. 

And if a flash of blond hair and green eyes with a sly smirk came to mind as well, he would deny it. 

They pulled into a rest stop to stretch and grab some more coffee. While he waited for Belle to return, he fired off a brief text to Liam, letting him know they’d most likely be back by the next evening. He toyed with texting Emma, but Belle returned and she slipped the keys from her hand to his and they were off before he could.

*

The house he shared with Liam was dark by the time they pulled in front of it, which was not all that surprising given he would have left for the bar hours ago. What was unexpected, though, was finding Emma asleep and buried beneath a layer of blankets on their couch.

Belle slipped behind him and up the stairs, muttering something about a shower. Killian waved her off and dropped his camera bags to the floor. He stepped towards the couch, bending to sift his hands through Emma’s hair in order to wake her. Her brow furrowed as he did and she opened one eye. 

“You’re back?” she whispered, swiping at one of her eyes as she groped for her glasses with her other hand.

“Aye, Swan,” he answered, feeling a smile break across his face. “And you’re here.”

She sat up and pushed her glasses up her nose and he smiled wider. He had always loved the way her thick, black frames sat above her cheekbones. 

“Liam told me to come over tonight, but didn’t say why.”

Killian smiled and pulled her up and into a hug, her blankets pooling at their feet. “He’s a meddlesome bugger, that’s why,” he said against the side of her head.

Emma hummed and squeezed him back. 

And he probably should shower as well, and sleep, and do a myriad of other things, but instead he sank further against her. He ran a hand down to settle at the small of her back, tugging her tighter to him, relishing the press of her face against his chest. Then before he could think of any number of reasons to talk himself out of it, he swallowed and asked, “Go to dinner with me tomorrow?”

He felt her answering smile through the fabric of his t-shirt long before she nodded her ascent. After a few breaths, he pulled back and unwound a hand from behind her to brush along her jaw. He brought her chin up as he did, finding happiness in the depths of her eyes as she looked up at him.

“I’m glad to be home, Swan.”

“Me too,” she whispered. “Me too.”


End file.
